Currents:
Determined From The Git-“Go”
By Neal T. Boulton ’89
 It’s
an old story: the underestimated student who goes on to become
the hometown hero. If only that were my story. But I can still
see my high school English teacher crowing: “I know you
have these ambitions to become something in magazines, but,
you are so far behind everyone else, you must know, you simply
won’t amount to much, dear.”
I can’t remember if I lowered my copy of Esquire Magazine
while she was talking, or after she finished.
As far back as I can remember, I’d been glued to a magazine
rack, especially on those adventures to the stadium-sized grocery
stores with mom. It was 1977 and the racks were filled with
LIFE, Esquire and GQ. Even the Saturday Evening Post was still
kicking around. At home, my father had every National Geographic
from his childhood; my mother poured through Harper’s
Bazaar. My Iowa City grandmother read the Atlantic Monthly.
But me, I lived for all of them. I poured through magazines,
soaking in their DNA for that day when I might work for one
of those beauties.
Then life changed on a road trip out west with my parents—it
was nothing really, just something I read in Travel & Leisure
about Vincent Van Gogh’s painting, “Starry Night.”
But the tone and the clarity of the article immersed me in the
depth and the soul of that work. The author illuminated that
painting so brightly with his words that I was inspired. In
an instant, I wanted that power—that power of the written
word.
By the time I looked up we were in Colorado; I’d read
the article countless times, and through it discovered my destiny.
Back home, I began hunting for colleges that would propel me
into the life of writing—the world of my new dreams.
It was 1985 and I’d struck gold discovering Washington
College. And much to the surprise of my English teacher, I got
in on a generous scholarship, and was permitted to skip freshman
English. There, College President Douglass Cater spoke with
gravitas about the enormous power of the written word. And I
knew, by then having drowned myself in Hemingway and Joyce and
the world’s most prolific journalists, precisely what
he meant. I listened as if my life depended on it; he in turn
kept a mentor’s eye on me, never failing to encourage
my wild magazine ambitions. My writing coach, Alice Goodfellow,
always said we’d get there, but first we’d have
to deprogram what I had learned about writing in high school.
Only then would we learn to write. And so, across the beautiful
Chestertown seasons, we progressed, marveling at all of the
inconsistent dances of grammar, and fine-tuning the tenor of
my editorial voice.
By year’s end, I was miserable. I had a new weapon in
my pen and a collection of short stories and essays, but I had
yet to be published by the New Yorker, and I had nothing in
Newsweek or LIFE! Perhaps my English teacher had been right.
Months later, it struck me: I’ll publish myself! And all
of my friends! So I created a magazine about the folks I admired
most: the doers, the winners. America’s success stories.
I called it Go. Magazine. It was 32 pages of lousy design, typos
and some curious writing. But bottom line: I did it. And, thanks
to a technology-forward father, an early computer-friendly college,
and the first Apple Macintosh (I did this on the “28K”)
I was able to self-publish: taking a disk to the printer instead
of boards layered with rubilyth. (Did I mention that I funded
my small magazine with ads that I pitched to local businesses,
ads that after an internship at a Baltimore advertising agency,
I’d write and design?) Those of you who knew me back then,
sorry you had to suffer through that little rag. Thanks, again,
if you ever had anything nice to say.
By the end of my college career, I’d published four issues
of Go. By 2004, I’d become editor-in-chief of the new
Men’s Fitness Magazine with a readership of 5.3 million.
Throughout the ’90s, I’d worked with LIFE, Outside
and the LA Times, and I taught at the Graduate School of Journalism
at Columbia University. Now I’m a guest on “The
Today Show” and “The View.” And while my agent
is not as gentle as Mrs. Goodfellow, he is guiding me as I write
my first book. I still oversee several other magazines including
Sly, Shape and Natural Health. In my success, I’m grateful
to Douglass Cater, Mrs. Goodfellow, and others who never discouraged
my grand ambitions.
Secretly, my favorite pastime is hitting the magazine racks
—in grocery stores, airport newsstands, and tiny Manhattan
sidewalk kiosks —and spotting all the magazines with my
name in them! When I do, I rearrange them, physically placing
mine over the covers of my competition.
OK, I still have a gigantic ego, but never one too big to look
back and say, “Thanks WC, we did it!”
Neal Boulton ’89 is writing a book called An Honest
Guide to Success: How Being True To Yourself Will Make It Happen.
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